Page 59 of The Summer Island Swap
It stopped right now.
What with Carlotta all over him.
The way women looked at him wherever he went, be that an airport or dance bar.
His laughing, teasing manner.
I sat down under a powder puff tree.
Oh Gary, yes, you’re right, that’s so funny.
Aren’t you lucky to have Gary as your dad?
Isn’t your dad handsome?
Oh Gary, you’re such a tease – I know you didn’t mean that insult.
Sorry Gary, I should have known better.
You’re right, I can see now, it is my fault.
Whatever makes you happy, Gary – that’s all I want.
I’d observed my dad’s manipulation over the years. These days they called it gaslighting. Like a slow-working poison, he was toxic. Women never realised this until it was too late and they were totally hooked.
I couldn’t help it, a passionate attraction made me vulnerable – made me feel as if I’d be opening myself to hurt.
I felt that right now: the pinch in my chest. It made me want to run back. To throw my arms around his neck and kiss the disagreement away. To apologise for getting involved.
That’s why everything about strong sexual passion was so completely wrong.
It skewed reality.
I only had to look at him to find myself swept into a heady fantasy land.
I had only been trying to help. If anything, he owedmean apology. I shouldn’t feel to blame.
This is what Dad did.He’dcause an argument but, somehow, it was always Mum who ended up saying sorry.
It always had to be about him. It was the same with Anabelle. I found no comfort in that. It would have been good if Mum’s death made him reassess the way he treated women. But it didn’t. He’d still flirt with the female neighbours – just like today when Rick had flirted with Carlotta.
Dad wasn’t dark, like Rick, but had thick blond hair, wide shoulders and a strong face. He was tall. Clothes hung off him as if he were a model. Grey streaks made him look distinguished. As I got older, I noticed how women’s eyes were drawn to him as he entered a room. How he relished the attention and used it to get what he wanted.
When I was younger, I’d sit on the stairs listening to dinner parties he’d persuaded Mum to hold. Even at that young age it struck me that I often heard him laughing and chatting with the female guests. Not with Mum. And any compliment would be directed at a stranger’s dress or hairstyle – not hers.
Seeing Mum’s love for my father, how she’d kiss him however mean he was, and then the same behaviour from Anabelle who often told him how lucky she was to be with a sought-after man like him, that gratitude – it frightened me. I didn’t want to end up with someone like him.
I had to break free from Rick before things became more serious. For Mum’s sake and what she’d made me promise on her death bed. I closed my eyes, unable to think of her passing. Instead I got up and brushed myself down. Pasted on a happy face. Forcing myself to hum, I walked back to camp. Amy couldn’t stop talking about tomorrow’s sports day.
‘Guess what,’ she said and grabbed my hand, swinging out arms as we walked towards the canteen. ‘I helped Jackie organise the whole event and chose the teams. I’ve arranged it so that you and Rick are paired up for the three-legged race. Time’s ticking if you’re going to have a really memorable holiday romance!’
27
I sighed, sitting on my bed having returned from my early morning shower, rehearsing what I’d say to Amy. But it was no good. I couldn’t spoil her dream holiday and leave because of my argument with Rick.
All night, in bed, I’d dissected the conversation I’d had with Margot. Her words rang in my ears about how the island was a paradise that healed relatives’ broken hearts and that got me thinking about the type of client we could target…
I got up and stretched. I scraped my hair back into a ponytail. Yet what was the point of brainstorming?
